A Very Honorable Life Day
by Sapadu
Summary: A Rebel soldier takes comfort in a little piece of history he found.


A Very Honorable Life Day

By Sapadu

A/N: Don't worry, folks – It's not another Star Wars Holiday Special, I'll promise you that right now. Y'know something else: I don't care if 'Life Day' is just a Wookie holiday – here, it's everyone.

_The princess had returned to base just a few hours ago. The Intelligence specialists were decoding the plans for the Death Star, but he knew a battle was coming. And, as he did when he was anxious about heading into battle, he pulled out his datapad and read through the documents – he didn't know where they were from, nor how they came to be in his possession, what war or battle the accounts came from, or if there was any mention of it anywhere else in history holos. He had the feeling a religious man would say it was the will of the Force or something. But, regardless, reading the accounts gave him comfort._

_He waited for the generals to make the announcement and reread the documents._

* * *

><p><strong>Captain's log: 800 hours, Day 23, Month 5, Year 2689<strong>

As per the general's orders, the troops have safely managed to land, but the timing could not possibly be worse – the planet is in the winter season, where we landed, and the ground is frozen. We have dug shallow trenches for our own protection, should we need it, but there was only so deep before we hit harder ground and could not dig deeper. It is poor protection against our enemy or the elements, and we have only the barest of shields from an arial attack. So far, no activity from the enemy.

**Message composed 1100 hours, Day 23, Month 5, Year 2689**

To General Causos

Landed and troops preparing for ground-based warfare. Ships engines in need of maintenance. Fuel supplies are adequate. Food and drink are rationed. No movements from enemy. Awaiting orders.

Lieutenant Geord

**Log: 2000 hours, Day 23, Month 5, Year 2689**

Our lieutenant has ordered us on rationed food and drink until we receive instructions for attack on the enemy. I do not dare protest, but the other men are already a little nervous at being on rations so early, especially when all of us are uneasy about the state of our ships. Some of us had very near misses in landing. It feels almost like the lieutenant is jinxing us with his over-precautionary measures.

**Message composed 2015 hours, Day 23, Month 5, Year 2689**

Dear Corline

I can only give you brief details, due to the possibility of the network being bugged or traced. I just ask that you don't worry about this careless brother of yours. Our captain is high strung, while myself and the men know that we will be quite alright. If this weren't a war, I'd say tonight is quite pleasant, save for the distinct chill in the air. No doubt it will not last, but that's how life on the battlefield is. Take care of yourself and your family.

Love,

Abern

**Captain's log: 2100 hours, Day 23, Month 5, Year 2689**

I was wrong to be so carelessly optimistic. During the night inspection, more than half my men's ships found their engines low on fuel, and others realized that some of their systems were not functioning properly. I almost dread when the fighting must start, tomorrow – the enemy's ships were in much better condition during the arial and space battles, and now, we are crippled for ground artillery, as well.

**Log 500 hours, Day 24, Month 5, Year 2689**

Our enemy has made no moves for the past seven hours. The lieutenant believed they would have made an attempt to attack by now. Still, he would rather wait for them to make the first strike, rather than waste any ammunition or power trying to locate them. The rest of the men are more than grateful to have no fighting if it means conserving energy and, thus, saving the limited food supplies we have.

**Log 800 hours, Day 24, Month 5, Year 2689**

On watch. No movement in enemy camps. Air is growing colder and winds picking up speed.

**Captain's log: 1415 hours, Day 24, Month 5, Year 2689**

Our instruments had been inaccurate for the last twelve hours. A downpour of icy rain came through the region just as the watch was changing out. Most of our major equipment – most importantly, our power generators – are waterlogged and unable to function. Now, the ground has frozen solid. My men are without heat, nor means to build shelter. I cannot help but wonder if I might have an uprising from them.

**Commanding officers' log: 1600 hours, Day 24, Month 5, Year 2689**

I was right to insist on rudimentary shelters being erected first thing after landing. Most of our equipment is still useable, and our power generators are the most vital after the drop in temperature. Rations have been cut – in our hurry to save the equipment, a good portion of our food was lost in the downpour. Privately, I hope there will be some means of finding food on this planet, or I may have some deserters.

**Message composed 800 hours, Day 25, Month 5, Year 2689**

To my dear Professor Quin Nox,

I wish I'd paid more attention to your lectures on edible plants and roots on planets other than our home. My comrades and I are now facing even more diminished rations after just a day on this new turf. The lieutenant is attempting to remain composed, and some of the other men are starting to grumble about the situation we are in. We still have no orders to strike. It is growing tedious, waiting and wondering when the time will come, and how to spend the time, waiting for it. I would ask how you and the others at the University are, but I know you must be worried for me. If I survive this war, I promise to start a scholarship in your name.

Your friend,

Private Medin Cruz

**Captain's log: 2100 hours, Day 26, Month 5, Year 2689**

First shots ordered. Only three laser cannons still functioning, and the charges for them are few. Only one shot, so far, but it took down a cover over the enemy camp. Our hope is that exposing the enemy to the elements will improve our chances of victory. No returning shots fired, but men have been ordered under the ion shield for extra precaution.

**Commanding officer's log: 2250 hours, Day 26, Month 5, Year 2689**

Enemy's position revealed, but South-by-Southwestern shelter destroyed by their volley. Five soldiers crushed under the falling sheet. The other troops have begun to argue if we should charge and seek revenge, or if we should retreat from an enemy more dangerous than we'd bargained for. My only answer was to order them to strengthen the other shelters and prevent them falling under a single shot. I can't help but feel at fault, losing men like that. I shall have to console myself with informing their families.

Casualties: Demie, Windham, Nipp, Noffsmin, Grosham

**Log: 625 hours, Day 28, Month 5, Year 2689**

Lieutenant's new orders to wait varying numbers of days before firing on the enemy. Scopes indicate that an ion shield is protecting the enemy camp, but ion shields cannot be maintained for long periods of time, nor do they protect from weather. They are likely to drop shield tonight, and we must fire, then.

**Message composed 1200 hours, Day 29, Month 5, Year 2689**

To Ma and Pa,

My first real battle, last night. Gotta say, it's not like in holodramas. The enemy blasted our best defensive ridge once we dropped shield. Two infantrymen were buried under the blast, and we have shifts to dig them out under shield cover.

Pa, I don't want to write you this, but Kramer's dead. After the enemy blasted our ridge, they had sharpshooters taking aim at men behind it. Kramer and I were side by side. I was able to duck out of the way. I'm sorry. I hadn't realized it until I saw him drop. I wish it had been me, instead.

Ranter

**Captain's log: 1250 hours, Day 29, Month 5, Year 2689**

Must proceed with caution in using shield. Enemy launched counter attack as soon as it dropped. Two men buried under explosion recovered. One died from suffocation during the rescue mission. I'd like to say I'm a seasoned soldier and any officer can withstand men dying. Unfortunately, there is little I wouldn't give to be a lesser man and have the privilege to grieve.

Casualties: Rietzmin, Kutz

**Log: 2050 hours, Day 3, Month 6, Year 2689**

Even with supplies and energy being limited, our attack pattern has been set. Every day, we have explosions on the dugouts or No Man's Land. I don't think anyone has died recently, but it seems like that might be worse. Maybe I just wasn't cut out for the army.

**Message composed 725 hours, Day 8, Month 6, Year 2689**

To Commander Worjsa

Ships damaged, unfit for flight. Ammunition low. Unable to protect troops or build shelter. Send transports before temperature drops to inhabitable levels.

Captain Majke

**Message composed 1275 hours, Day 8, Month 6, Year 2689**

To General Causos

Food supplies almost gone. Climate unfit for occupation. SOS.

Lieutenant Geord

**Message composed 1200 hours, Day 11, Month 6, Year 2689**

Ships prepared. Remain in position. Await contact from fleet.

**Log: 1600 hours, Day 20, Month 6, Year 2689**

The captain said we were to remain in position until we receive word from the fleet. As much as we all try to remain patient, each day feels like a matter of years. When the enemy fired on our camp yesterday morning, I was foolish enough to run over to the spot that had been blasted and try to absorb some of the heat. One of the enemy's snipers got me in the arm. I know better than to try it again.

**Message composed 1375 hours, Day 27, Month 6, Year 2689**

Dear Ouran

I apologize for not contacting you since we graduated. To make up for it, I'd like to write you a book about all the things that had happened since we last spoke, but that is impossible right now. I saw my comrade in arms shot during an enemy attack today. Just last night, we were talking about our families back home. I mentioned my sisters and their families. He told me about his parents, and his father starting to go blind. It was the whole reason he joined up. I couldn't help but feel sad for his parents. If I come back alive and in one piece, I'd like you to come with me and see them, personally. After all, you are my greatest friend.

Regards,

Kaskven

**Captain's log: 2100 hours, Day 1, Month 7, Year 2689**

We had another freezing rain last night. There was time to set up shelter this time, but all it did was save the cannons and more of our electronic equipment. While I'm grateful that the blaster cannons still fire, I cannot find any real joy in engaging the enemy at this point. Three men came out of the rain with hypothermia last night. All of them went before the night was over. Today, one of our blaster cannons was destroyed. All of the men arming it were killing in the explosion, and more of them were injured from the impact. I was hoping the ships would have arrived by now.

Casualties: Coron, Onaya, Offen, Olifant, Smirno, Bacar, Reisling, Sauvignon, Raminer, Pinot, Gewurzt

**Message composed 1400 hours, Day 4, Month 7, Year 2689**

Dear Mother,

I still remember you giving me a blaster proof helmet when I left home. I'm sorry to say I haven't used it yet – it does little to fend off hunger, and dying of starvation is a slower, crueler death. I'm afraid it may be the one we all face in this trench. I wish you and Lukka well. Don't worry – I promise not to die dishonorably, if that is the only choice I have left.

Love

Gries

**Log: 1575 hours, Day 15, Month 7, Year 2689**

I'm not the only one in the trench losing hope. Last night, I went to sleep while talking to my fellow artilleryman, Blanc. This morning, I woke up with his frozen eyes staring at me. Out of all of us, he was the one who knew best how to survive in the cold. Everyone thought he would make it. What will become of the rest of us? How are we supposed to survive until the transports arrive, let alone win this war?

**Message composed 1600 hours, Day 21, Month 7, Year 2689**

My dear Val-Kin

This is all I have to keep me from passing out right now – our food supplies are being limited to one meal for every seven days. Our water supplies are also low. Right now, hope and sleep are all that are keeping most of us going. We only have shifts to fire on the enemy on schedule. The rest of us stay below most of the time. The only consolation I have is the idea of telling this story to any children that might come along if I survive. Believe me – I do want to survive.

Love

Rin-Gar

**Commanding officer's log: 1300 hours, Day 24, Month 7, Year 2689**

Even on rations, our supply has run to it's lowest. The most we could do is one more meal for the men, and it would be a small one. Power and weapons are no use at this point, no more than winning the war is important. I pray to whatever powers there might be that I can help my men at this point. Even if I'm disgraced for it, it's time to barter.

**Message composed 2300 hours, Day 24, Month 7, Year 2689**

Dear Corline

I never thought I'd be writing about this war again, but something has happened that I cannot keep secret from you. We've lost more than a few men to the war, but more to the cold on this planet. None of us expected the way we'd be unprepared for it. The enemy's condition is uncertain, but our captain has decided that it does us no good to not make an attempt. He met with the enemy's commander just an hour ago, then returned to tell us all that we would be taking as many bags of provisions and food over to the enemy camp as we could: They are starving, but have enough power to heat their entire camp. Our commanders agreed on a ceasefire for one day – tomorrow is Life Day, after all. Hopefully, nobody would think less of any of us for showing respect for life on a holiday. When I write next, I might be a criminal, sister. For now, I'm off to fraternize with the enemy.

Love,

Abern

**Log 1200 hours, Day 25, Month 7, Year 2689**

The enemy doesn't look any better off than we are. Their faces are all drawn, and more than a few of them have frost on their eyebrows or in the creases on their coats. All of them brought their rations with them. The taste of just food paste was a better feeling than I'd had for the last two months. None of them say much, though more than a few of them are gathered around the heaters, trying to thaw their limbs out. Oddly enough, though, it's not so awkward sitting next to the enemy. More than anything, I'm grateful to at least have something to eat. It's almost enough to make me find our evening guests enjoyable.

**Message composed 1400 hours, Day 25, Month 7, Year 2689**

Dear Ouran

This has been the most surreal of afternoons, yet. You might think less of me for this, but necessity caused us to declare a ceasefire for the holiday. As a result, my fellows and I have been talking with the soldiers from our enemy. One of them, a youngun named 'Gries', told us about a mother and a brother he has back home. Apparently, his father abandoned them when his brother was a baby. That's why he signed up for this war – to prove himself more dedicated than his father was. It rings true to why I signed up: Because I wanted to show that I was truly loyal to my homeland. I feel almost selfish, when I had no family watching me and needing my inspiration as I went to war. It's still amazing that someone would do that.

I hope this war ends without more blasts. For no particular reason, I just hope that I, and these other soldiers, can get back to their lives without memories to haunt them.

Regards,

Kaskven

**Message composed 1775 hours, Day 25, Month 7, Year 2689**

To Ma and Pa

A respectful Life Day to you! It's funny, but things have changed. Stang, the last time I wrote, I told you about Kramer. Now, everyone is talking with each other, exchanging stories, food, things like buttons or empty cases for medicine or spices they were smoking – they're the closest we'll get to gifts, so I guess they'll turn into trophies after this is over.

But the strangest part is that the commanders aren't even trying to stop us. Maybe because it was their idea, maybe they're trying to show some respect for the holiday, but whatever it is, they've agreed to it. The men were all talking about their comrades, friends they'd made before the war, friends they'd made during the fighting, so the commanders agreed to hold a memorial service tonight.

Ain't it just the damnedest thing?

Ranter

**Message composed 2100 hours, Day 25, Month 7, Year 2689**

To my dear Professor Quin Nox,

After weeks of going hungry, I thought food would be the only thing that would soothe me. Still, what's going on tonight is something I couldn't even imagine. It started about an hour ago. All of the soldiers moved into a circle, keeping everyone in range of the heaters. The men were passing around tin mugs of watery caf and food paste gruel. To me, I would have thought it to be the food of the gods or something. Everyone had their helmets on the ground with emergency lamps or datapads or anything else that gave off light under them to make the Life Day globes.

It started off with someone from the other side talking about his shipmate: Someone called Reitzmin, being buried from an explosion. They had been in training together. I might have even been the one to fire the cannon and cause that blast. That weighs heavily on my conscience, now. Then, after him came one of ours. One of the sharpshooters talked about Puttin passing out in the middle of a launch. He'd been blasted to pieces when the others moved out of the way. I'd known him, but not well enough. It makes me sick that I'd been so callous. Each of us takes his turn, talking about a friend or crew mate who'd fallen. The other side has some deaths from our shots, but most of them came from freezing or hypothermia. It's almost a mirror for us, who lost a few men in battle, but more of them went crazy from the hunger, or tried to kill themselves, or killed each other, being so desperate to have something to eat. I'd seen a few of those, but didn't have the strength to write about the grisly scenes that would follow.

When all of the men finish their eulogies, all of us stand up with our helmets and pass them to the man next to us. The soldier I'm next to is older – I heard him talking about his family before we started, his wife, his brother, a few nieces and nephews, and how he and his wife had wanted to have their own children. But he's one of few – most of the others here are too young to be fighting. It pains me to see so many young faces, especially after how many of their compatriots have perished so terribly. But we all exchange helmets, and each of us bow our heads in respect. If you had told me this would happen at the beginning of the war, I never would have believed you.

I'd say this is a very respectful Life Day.

Your friend,

Private Medin Cruz

**Captain's log: 2400 hours, Day 25, Month 7, Year 2689**

We're no longer in need of heat, with the energy burners they allowed to go back to our trenches with us, but our enemies are no longer in need of food. It seems like both a setback and a gain. The real problem is getting the men back to battle – both sides have been unusually quiet since the memorial service ended.

**Commanding officer's log: 0000 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 2689**

I'm expecting orders from the general any moment now to resume the firing on the enemy. I wonder if any of my own men will obey me. All of them were reluctant to see our enemies go, even though they left plenty of food for us. Indeed, I almost saw something else in those boys and men. But this is war.

**Message composed 1200 hours, Day 26, Month 7, Year 2689**

Repair droids, renewed ammunition, and supplies available. Transport will remain in orbit until operation complete.

**Captain's log: 1400 hours, Day 28, Month 7, Year 2689**

Orders have arrived to continue firing on the enemy. So far, none of the shots fired have even been close to hitting the targets. At the same time, the enemy's shots have been missing us every time. It almost feels like it's on purpose.

**Log: 0900 hours, Day 29, Month 7, Year 2689**

None of us are even attempting to aim. It might be treacherous, even mutinous of us to do so, but we all hope that it at least looks like we're attempting without having to really destroy the enemy anymore. It's the most we can hope for – none of us can do it, anymore than we could have fired on each other. Our only hope is for a truce or a treaty to come.

**Commanding officer's log 1300 hours, Day 29, Month 7, Year 2689**

Orders have been given to the men. Contact made with enemy commander. No further logs.

**Message composed 1400 hours, Day 30, Month 7, Year 2689**

Dear Corline,

This may be the last I write to you in a long, long time. None of us will be in contact, possibly for the rest of our lives. We're all deserting. It may be difficult to explain why, or, for that matter, to understand to anyone other than ourselves, but I hope it makes sense to you.

It started the day after Life Day. Repair droids and supplies were sent down from the transports to our troops on the ground. Our ships and cannons were repaired, and all of us were given orders to resume firing on the enemy. Corline, the moment our ships lifted off the ground, the moment we aimed our cannons, I could see straight into the enemy's camp. They were preparing to do the same. Still, there was something I couldn't find words to express when I saw them. Men who'd been starving just a day before, who'd saved myself and more of my comrades from freezing.

You might think I'm being naïve or sentimental. But believe me, sister. I knew that if I'd fired on those men, I couldn't have lived another day of my life.

This was our only solution. Our captain and their lieutenant are returning to their commanders, and from there, the governments we're representing. It's a long shot, and there's a good chance they'll be punished for treason. If you see holocasts about an arrest or possible execution of one Captain Rumin Majke, please do me a favor and go see his wife. Funny, but you'd never think a straightlaced guy like him to have a romantic side to him. He only told us about her at the last minute, after he'd given us the order to desert. Either way, she's going to need some support through this, and I get the feeling you'll need company of your own.

Trust me when I say I love you, my dear sister,

Abern

* * *

><p><em>And that was all. No record of what came after that. Nothing to show if a peace had been reached, what the governments at war were, not even a record of announcement if the captain and lieutenant had been arrested or executed. For all he knew, the two planets continued to fight until they destroyed each other.<em>

_But..._

"_All pilots, to your stations." The voice came over the speakers. He jolted up, sending the datapad to the floor, "All pilots, to your stations."_

_Reluctantly, he picked up his helmet and jogged out to the ships._

_He thought he understood what led those soldiers to willingly abandon their fight, even though it meant they had to sacrifice everything else in their lives to do so. And maybe it was foolish, but it gave him hope for the rest of the galaxy._

A/N: In case nobody noticed, this is actually based on a real event that occurred in World War I – Christmas of 1914. The Scottish, French, and German troops in the trenches declared a ceasefire for the holiday and the troops came out, met, sang carols, even held a mass. I did fudge a little for the ending, but it just goes to show you that people can be capable of some pretty incredible things when the chips are down. There's also a movie based on this event: Jouyeux Noel. Be sure to check it out, for the history and the flick itself.


End file.
